Saturday, August 30, 2008
Friday, August 29, 2008
...I think I just threw up in my mouth...
HOWEVER... it does remind me of a little story... sit back, relax... and you might not want to be eating anything while you read this story... you may throw up in your mouth too...
Okay... sooooo I was THAT GIRL. My friends got asked out on lots and lots of dates and I was the "can't get her own date tag along friend" that got set up with the "pockmark faced, garlic breath, stuck in the 1980's bomber jacket (and possibly pedifile) " friend that also can't get a date roomate. It's okay, I embraced it. I got a lot of good ammo on my dear friends this way. When I said jump they said how high... or I guess that's how it's supposed to work right?
Anyway, my friend... lets call her Francis... meets "Lance the Studmuffin". Actually I think both Lance the Studmuffin and his lovely friend wore bomber jackets so maybe they were both pedifiles. Beside the point.
He's cute, charming aaaannnd, ready for the icing on the cake...
HE DRIVES A MOTORCYCLE (and wears a 1980's bomber jacket)
Tell me, who can resist a guy who drives a motorcycle. Not Francis.
"Oh, he's just dreamy...! I have an idea, why don't you go out with his friend [we'll call him Larry, Larry sounds like an appropriately creepy name right?] then we could double and I can have the best of both worlds: my man and my BFF! Wouldn't it be fun if we all got married (as in each individual couple, not all 4 of us, sorry I don't roll that way...)
Okay, I knew better. Up to this point, I've never had a good experience with a blind date (although later on... I did meat my Dream Guy and fall madly happily in love and live happily ever after thanks to a blind date gone good). BUUUUT I love my friend, I don't want to burst her little bubble full of puppies, rainbows and Prince Charmings riding off into the sunset. Plus she informs me that he rides a motorcycle too (although conveniently leaves out the 1980's bomber jacket and pedifile part) so I figure it can't be THAT bad right?!!! What rebelious teenager struggling to find her own identity can resist a blind date with a rebel on a motorcycle? Not me. The beauty of being a girl on a blind date is free dinner and a movie and an adrenaline pumping, hair destroying night on a motorcycle. Can't beat that right, even if the guy is a total twit (and possible pedifile).
So, we meet at the guys house. (we couldn't have two guys show up to pick us up at OUR houses on motorcycls. The night would be over before it began!)
Lance 'n Larry (ooohhh, that's sounding creepy already) come strutting out of the house. Wait... did I say Lance AND Larry?! Nooooo I meant just Lance. Larry was still GETTING READY. You see he takes longer to get ready than Tammy Faye.
He literally would pluck his eyebrows every day and would sit in front of the mirror with scissors evening out every single hair on top of his head. Welllll.... at least he wants to impress me riiiight??? hmmm....
There was a whole brigade of us going out on motorcycles for the night. Well, that's a plus... I've always wanted to be part of a motorcycle gang. And where does a Hog Posse go to impress their lady friends? Where else... VILLAGE INN... I kid you not. We really went to Village Inn. Now I'm not a snob, I'll eat wherever... I just thought it was pretty apprpriate....that's all I'm saying...
Okay, so we enter the restaurant and Larry turns to Lance the Studmuffin and stays, "Dude, I don't have any money... I'm going to go find an ATM, I'll be right back. And he turns and struts off. I looked at Lance the Studmuffin, back at Larry then back at Lance the Studmuffin. He shrugs his shoulders and says, "I've always wanted to have two dates! "
We sit down to dinner. Still no Larry. I order something small and budget friendly (although seriously eyeing that MOONS OVER MIHAMMY as I drench my shirt in drool.) Don't want to break the bank for Larry you know. Anyway, still no Larry. Our Tammy Faye look-alike waitress (appropriate don't you think.. if I can't have my date, why not his lookalike as my waitress?) brings us our dinner and asks with sickening pitty in her eyes, "Can I get you anything else hon?" Still no Larry. I devour my piece of toast and icewater and start on Francis' dinner. Still no Larry. The check comes. Still no Larry. Ummmm... see where this was going. I get up to head toward the kitchen to start washing dishes to pay for my morsel of food when Lance the Studmuffin proves what a Studmuffin he is. he pays for my meal... and asks if I can help cover the tip.... Still no Larry...
Luckily, one of the Chain Gang drove a car so he drives me back to the bachelor pad (I thought about having him take me home, but decided wisely against it... there are a lot of little kids that live on my street). We go inside "just for a minute" and find Larry sitting on the couch with the stinkiest, nastiest Mount Everest sized mountain of eggs you've ever singed your nose hair on. Did I mention it was drenched in ketchup? And that there was a little piece of egg hanging from the tip of his nose? (Maybe not that last part, but that was the only thing that could have POSSIBLY made me any sicker than I already was)... until.... he pats the couch next to me, winks at me and tells me to have a seat. I sat down on the bean bag chair on the other side of the room.
He calls to me, "sorry, I didn't have any money" I ignore him, not because I am mad at him for ditching me, but just HOPING that if I pretend he isn't there he will dissappear... or turn into Brad Pitt or anyone else in the world that doesn't make me want to blow chunks.
Now, you may be saying to yourself:
A. This is the worst date story EVER
B. Wow, this girl must be really really ugly
C. This can't possibly get any worse....
Well, the first two are subjective (and B is a retorical question thank you very much!) But if you guessed C... you are WRONG. Yes, sadly this story gets MUCH WORSE.
Everyone else gets cozy with their mates on the couch as I am curled up in a fetal position on the bean bag watching who knows what... just trying to block out my surroundings. I am doing a pretty good job zoning out and picturing my happy place (you know the one: gobs of luscious, gooey chocolate icecream dripping from my lips onto a crisp white shirt) when all of the sudden I smell the putrid odor of rancid eggs breathing down my neck and melting my skin like acid rain.
UUUUUGGGGGHHHH. TELL ME he is not seriously trying to spoon me?!!!! AAAHHHH (now is the point where you should imagine the sound effects from the shower scene of Hitchcocks Psyco). Yes... he was trying to spoon me. In fact... he was so close it was more of a spork because he was trying to intertwine his legs with mine. I curled up into myself even tighter and pretended to be asleep... for the ENTIRE 2 HOURS OF THE MOVIE.
Somebody kill me...
How can a 2 hour movie go on for 2 years....?
The movie ended and I LEPT to my feet. I mean, we're talking speed of light... bum to feet in .0003 seconds. I said to Francis, "It's almost curfew, better get going". Larry says, "Wait... do you have to go? Let me get your number." That was the first and only time I ever had the guts to say, "Um... that's okay" and walked out of the house.
Ewe... I think I need to take a shower. I feel CRUSTY just thinking of that story.
I don't think I'll ever eat scrambled eggs again!
What's YOUR worst date experience (try to top me I dare you!)
jps... I must add Lance the Studmuffin really was very cute, my friends never dated losers... they just dated studmuffins with loser friends....... that wanted to date me...
Thursday, August 28, 2008
[Imagine, if you will, a clever little jingle playing in the background that makes you want to get up and dance... and spend some money...]
Simply Bliss Photography: Turning your little rugrats into models.
We make everyone else think your kid is as cute as YOU think they are! :)
Now back to our normal programming. When we left off Roman found out that Marlena was actually an alien from outerspace sent to... sorry... wrong channel. BUT now that you mention it....does anyone happen to know what is going on on Days of our Lives these day? I havent' watched it since high school, but I'm sure Beau and Hope are still having the same conversation they started when I stopped watching it a million years ago. (THAT'S how they stay so youthful and beautiful, they are frozen in the same day forever. I submit that instead of Mountain Standard Time, my state switch to DOOL standard time.)
ANYWAY.... Here's the good news...
CHOCOLATE IS ACTUALLY A VEGETABLE.
Don't believe me? I will state the case as it was presented to me. You be the judge.
What is a chocolate bar made of? Cocoa, sugar and milk.
Cocoa is extracted from the BEANS of the cocoa plant.
Beans are a vegetable.
Sugar is extracted from the sugar beat.
The sugar beat is a vegetable.
THEREFORE: CHOCOLATE IS A VEGETABLE.
It only gets better from there. To turn the chocolate into a chocolate candy bar they add milk. Milk come from cows and has calcium... therefore milk is good for you. Mix the two together....
Does life get any better than this? I submit that it does not!
For those of you NON-chocolate lovers, what is wrong with you?! Do your own homework and justify gummy worms on your own watch. I'm too busy devouring this gooey bar of deliciousness.
So, tell me... do YOU watch soap operas? Is YOUR face covered in chocolate right now too? VENT.
ps... YES Simply Bliss really IS my photographer of choice (as you can see from my little rugrats being included in the ad) She is AMAZING. And YES I am trying to capitolize on an otherwise useless blog! Want me to shamelessly shout out the praises of YOUR business? Email me: firstname.lastname@example.org we'll talk :)
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
"aaaahhhhhh..... nooooo waaaatttteeeerrrr..... uh oh.." crash, SPLASH
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Well, if you are going to talk to yourself you might as well embrace it right?
Okay, self, [you are looking rather dashing today, I might add, in your crusty workout pants that you still haven't changed out of... some people can just pull ANYTHING off] we are going to have a little talk on something called blog etiquette.
blog etiquette [blog (picture a smiley face over the o) et-i-ket]: conventional requirements as to social behavior on a weblog; proprieties of conduct as established in any community in the blog-o-sphere
synonyms: weblog decorum, weblog propriety, don't be a butt-head behavior
see also: Blog Stalking for Dummies
Okay, okay... now I'M being a butthead. But seriously, this is something I want to talk about.
I have a HUGE confession to make. I know I make them on a daily basis, and they almost always make me look silly or just plain ridiculous. But this is my confession booth, and you as the reader (if you just read that then by my definition, YES you are one of my readers neener neener neener) are my priest. And this one is a doozy. Here goes:
So tell me.... am I the only blog stalker out there (if you are the creepy kind feel free to keep your comments to yourself). Everyone else... tell me what is your funniest, most embarrasing, or heartwarming blog stalking story..
Monday, August 25, 2008
...[clear my throat]... mi mi mi... I'm a bit out of tune for the moment... if by "that moment" we mean my life.
Anyway, have any of you taken a moment to take a look at the crazy world around us and how much pure evil is going on out there? If not you are amazing, don't do it as by doing so you will marr your perfection.
We are living in a world that is just plain full of evil. As I sit in this plush chocolate brown leather chair, typing away on my sweet laptop that my amazing (and HOT I might add) husband so graciously gave me and my children sleep peacfully in their snuggly warm beds with full belly's the rest of the world is falling apart. Villages full of FAMILIES are being blown apart by bombs. Entire nations are starving to death. Brittney spears is bearing offspring. The fact that this moment of my life is happy, blissful even and comfortable I realize is a blessing. The best moments of MY life or yours could be the worst moment of another persons life. The moment I found out my precious little girl had gone back home to Heaven and my world came crashing down around me, another little sweetheart snuggled against her mother as the dr. laid her gently onto her mothers stomache for their first mother daughter embrace... fresh from the arms of the Lord. How can we really be expected to enjoy this life when it seems that every good thing is off set by something bad. When it seems that bad is just around the corner. It seems like when I finally conquer that dreaded vomit inducing spin class and prance triumphantly out the doors of the gym with head and arms held high, a bus is going to come careening out of no where and cream me. Does life ever seem that way to you?
I hope I didn't lose you there in my haze of "depressingness". Because we're about to make a 180. Since I lost my little girl and got into blogging, I have seen so much loss and heart ache. I have met so many wonderful, amazing people that have experienced loss from every imaginable end of the spectrum. I absolutely HATE it everytime I hear of another person that has had to bear that burden. I wish I could take the pain from them.
However, through all this pain and sadness I have seen a miricle occur. I have seen complete strangers come together and show REAL Christlike love for each other. I have seen children of God, that seem to have absolutely nothing in common and no reason to care that the other existed let alone have a reason to reach out in friendship do just that. I have seen people reach out to those in need. Lend them prayers and words of comfort and love. I've heard of people in tears, reading of a complete strangers story, genuinly hurting that someone else they've never met is hurting. I have seen LOVE. Pure unadulterated love that can come from only one source: Our Savior. And there is nothing that can offset that. Satan may try to go tit for tat with the Lord hitting us with a crisis after each blessing we receive. He can take over the media and bombard our senses with images of misery and hatred. But he can't understand or take away that light of love that burns within our hearts when we truly reach out in concern for our fellow brothers and sisters.
I believe that there is good in the world. There is love in the world. In the words of Anne Frank, "Despite everthing I believe that people are really good at heart." Good will overcome.
There are a lot of "poopoo heads" out there, in the words of my 3 year old son. And quite frankly sometimes I'd like to kick them in the shin too, because THEY STARTED IT. But when it gets down to it, even though it sometimes doesn't seem like it in the heat of the moment, this life and the challenges therein is just a speck in the spectrum of the eternity that is ours ahead of us. I really do believe that. And that is another thing that Satan can't take from me. You don't have to believe it. I will still be your friend. But it doesn't change it from being a fact and it doesn't change the fact that life is not just better when you belive that but it is actually AMAZING despite everything going on around the world and in our own lives.
That being said, every once in a while you come across someone that is truly exceptional. Someone that can stop and smell the cupcakes (or nachos in some cases, whatever your preference may be) no matter what kind of turmoil their lives may be in. Someone that seems to still find the humor in life no matter how many punches they seem to take in the ring of life.
My friend Mrs. Dub in one such person. I've never actually met her in person, but she has helped to uplift me and help me see the bright side in life during a particuarly dark period of my life. You see, she too has an angel baby. Her angel actually went back to heaven 5 days before mine. I really feel like the Lord led me to her blog as she was documenting her thoughts and feelings about this bittersweet experience, and it helped me to take on the positive (usually) outlook that I have on the mission my sweet little angel was called on.
It seems like her family has been hit with one thing after another, and they have are about to take another punch today. Her dad has been diagnosed with cancer and is having his esophogas removed today. I don't know them personally, but from what I know of their daughter, their family will take the punch and get right back up and continue the fight. BUT I know no matter how strong you or anyone else thinks you are you can always use the Lords help and you can always use as many prayers as you can get to solicit such help from our Father in Heaven.
So many of my friends responded to my prayer request for Baby Macs family, I thought I would solicit a few more prayers in the behalf of another person none of us know, but who makes the world a little brighter place for those that do come across her.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Is there anything in this world more giggle inducing than the high pitched squeels of delight of a baby?!
Other than a little toot escaping from that cute dainty little thing?
Yes... I swear on EVERYTHING that was my daughter, not her mommy!
If you happen to run into her down the road sometime, please don't tell her about this video... I'd like to not be UNinvited to her wedding someday...
Friday, August 22, 2008
World War three was erupting in my living room. I came running... praying it wasn't too late. As the smoke cleared I discovered the heart of the action: two little boys flailing around on floor fighting for their very lives.
"NO YOU DOOOOOON'T"
"YES I DOOOO!"
"NO YOU ARE!
"NO YOOOOOU ARE!"
Oh how I wish at times like these that phrase had the same impact they did on Saved By the Bell. That the world around me would freeze as it was and I could remove the frozen soldiers from their death grips and reposition them to opposite sides of the... globe... SERIOUSLY.
Unfortunately life doesn't work like that so (sans appropriat bomb defusing attire) I entered the warzone and pried the two combatants off each other.
Okay, lets solve this diplomatically.
Defendant #1 state your case.
"He says he has Cocoa Puffs at his house, but he DOESN'T.. I DO!"
Defendant #2 interjects: "YES I DOOOO YOU DON'T!"
Seriously? I shouldn't be suprised. I really wouldn't be suprised if the real WW3 was initiated over such a life or death disagreement. After all wars are usually started by men...
I stood in the middle of them with a palm to each little head holding them back from each other as we resolved the situation and each eventually submitted to the fact that it was okay for both of them to have Cocoa Puffs at each of their respective homes.
Whew catastrophe averted.
Add war diplomat to my resume.
Here is why being a boy is great, though. They were about to end each others lives one minute and the next:
Maybe I should head down to Afghanistan and put Osama bin Laden in a headlock. Wouldn't that save a lot of time and money? Then maybe we could focus on something more important like getting these gosh dang oil/grocery/everything else prices down so that I can once again afford a good pedicure!
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
OOOhhhhhhhh I had suuuch a hard day yesterday.
The torture began the moment my eyelids fluttered open at 8:00 am. I had had a pretty rough night. I didn't get to bed until 9pm the night before, so as you can imagine I was still not quite ready to be awake yet. But, much to my chagrin, my empty belly would not allow me the luxury of snoozing a little bit longer. Hunger was gnawing at my vacant gut and I had nothing within my reach with which to satiate this excrutiating pain. Where was my servant?! (Yup, I sure do have a servant, they are great, I HIGHLY suggest you get one for yourself) Why did she not predetermine this need and have sustenance waiting for me when I awoke? Did she not care if I shrivel up and died of starvation?! So I did what any reasonable person would do: I cried.
Think what you will of me, but it got me what I wanted. My servant came RUNNING and within moments I was at the table with a nice bowl of Marshmallow Matey's waiting for me to dig in. I devoured the sugar encrusted dream that was my breakfast (I may have cracked a tooth or two in the process I might add) and when I was done I promptly threw my nearly empty bowl on the floor. What? I said thank you! But what did my hideously ungrateful servant do? She yells at me. Something about making a mess... yadda yadda yadda. I was much too hurt to focus on a word she said. Honestly, sometimes I think she speaks alien! See where this is going?! My life is such a mess!
Then it was time to get dressed. Oh, what to wear?! How do you choose when you are as cute as I am? I finally settled on the perfect outfit and threw myself on the floor so my servant could dress me. UUuuuuugh... don't you hate it when they tickle you and blow on your belly when they are dressing you?! Oh... mine doesn't do that either. Anyway, I spent about 20 minutes admiring myself in the mirror and then I was off to the business of my day.
This is where the REAL catastrophe began. I had responsibilities to tend to, and people were taking my stuff! Seriously! I couldn't find ANYTHING! I screamed for my servant to come right away and find my pirated belongings, and....she....told....me.....JUST A MINUTE. AAAHHHH seriously, no one cares. So I cried again. My servant was definitely annoyed and muttered her alien jibberish under her breath, but whatever, I got what I wanted. She can't stay mad at me and she knows it. I flashed her my best grin and all annoyance disappeared. Good girl. I've trained her well. Now if I could juuuust train her to be more prompt. And to read minds, that would be great too.
Well, it was definitely a rough morning so I needed a little rest. I had already been up for about 4 hours!!! I melted into my luxurious mattress as soon as I touched down. I was just entering dreamland when all of the sudden I was awakend by something squidgy and uncomfortable. Oh no, I pooped my pants again. Drats. Wouldn't YOU cry if you pooped your pants right as you were just getting comfortable. Don't lie, I know you would. And I did. My servant kept yelling through my door for me to stop crying and go to sleep. Excuse me, how do you go to sleep with this stuff in your pants? How embarrasing. She finally gave in and helped me clean up and it was back to sleep.
The rest of my day was a stressful blur waiting for what I wanted, not getting my way, and flying food. Did I mention a lot of tears? Stress will do that to you. So will bonking your head on the floor when you throw yourself down on the ground in an effort to illustrate your immediate life or death need to someone that JUST DOESN'T GET IT. Mine is an exhausting life. Good help is so hard to come by.
The end of the day finally arrived. I had survived, though barely. I can't even begin to imagine the trama that awaits me when I wake up in the morning. Maybe my servant will step it up tomorrow and start determining my needs before I have to throw a fit. Someday she'll learn.
The story you have just read is true, the events are accurately depicted as they took place... the star of the story: no, it wasn't me, I will give credit where credit is due. Little Miss Thang (or Paris Hilton... same difference) plays the role of martyr.
Although I didn't actually poop my pants a little pee may or may not have leaked out when I laughed at little missy painstakingly checking out her belly button in the mirror...but who can be sure.
....but apparently that wore her out...
and it was back to couch potatoe mode again.
...yes I am a bad mother.
...yes, she learned this from me.
What are YOUR bad habits?
Do YOU still cling to your binky too?
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Monday, August 18, 2008
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
but I got my extra 5 points so it was well worth it.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Friday, August 8, 2008
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Monday, August 4, 2008
...when I have kids... they'll NEVER behave like that!
That's what I told myself before I was a mommy. I would sit in sacrament meeting discusted with all the future hoodlums that were jumping on the pews, fighting with their siblings and turning the lights on and off. When I had kids they would be perfect. They would sit quietly on the pew with their arms folded, reading their Book of Mormon Stories quiet book and every once in a while the would lay their precious little heads against me and REVERENTLY whisper, "Mommy, I love you."
little did I know...
Don't get me wrong, my kids do pretty well for a 3 year old and 18 month old. I haven't had to chase them up on the stand... yet. BUT everyone in my ward knows what I'M wearing each week because inevitably all eyes are on me as I am dragging one of my little cherubs out because the reverent, reflective time that they are passing the sacrament is just such a cherry opportunity to make a public service announcement that SOMEONE has to go poop. Nice. It's alright, I don't mind the snickers... I'm right there with everyone else snickering at the little girl that decides to show everyone her Pony panties during the primary program!
I will admit that I am kind of a strict mom, and sometimes I think I forget how young my kids are and what their capabilities are. Also, I guess I'm worrying too much about what those other couples that haven't been blessed with the opportunity of parenthood are thinking. I'm the mean mom that is fighting my kids to actually sit on the bench through sacrament just waiting for that perfect vision of mine to come true, and in the mean time causing more of a commotion than anything. Then just when I think we're starting to conquer sacrament meeting I am informed that little Mister Mischief has been acting a little "aggressively" in nursery. In lay mans terms: my kid is THAT kid. Who's THAT kids mom?!
There has to be a happy medium between understanding your kids developmental abilities and teaching them appropriate social behavior.
Any words of wisdom? REALLY I want to know!!!